


Smother Me

by WincestSounds (Cammerel)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hell!Dean, Incest, M/M, Wincest - Freeform, broken!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-15
Updated: 2013-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-05 09:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/721601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/WincestSounds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean comes back seriously broken. (Co-Written with Alyxjohnson on Tumblr)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Season: 4, without Angels or the ‘Seals plot’
> 
> Notes: There are probably large uh... Inconsistencies with the series, and it starts the way any 'don't know you, let's blow shit and fly by the seat of our pants' rp would start, so ignore the beginnin' if it bothers you. It becomes amazin' FAST.

Dean shared a look between Sam and Bobby as they suddenly realized that they didn't actually know who had brought him out of Hell.  
His stomach sunk nervously and he tried to hide just how completely terrified that thought made him feel. He'd rather not be in Hell, but the kind of thing it would've took to get him out definitely couldn't be good. Could it?  
And with the mark it had made, the intense hand-print bubbled onto his arm... Well... Nothing nice left something like that. Did it?  
He tried to keep the memories of Azazel down, tried to appear normal even though he wanted scream until his throat tore up and his lungs collapsed. But the less Sam knew that he knew, the better.  
The side of Sam's mouth twitched as he watched the two men across from him, though his focus renamed namely on Dean. He was worried about the after effects of Dean being pulled, that was for sure, but he also was too damn happy about Dean being right in front of him; too much care. He'd missed Bobby too, of course, but Dean...that was something he wasn't expecting altogether. It was especially important now that he'd been spending his time a bit more...differently than before Dean had left, and that really changed things. Would change this for Sam and his general attitude.  
Dean cleared his throat and looked at the man he'd begun to consider a father before he'd... He'd died... He nodded to Bobby, "Should we... Should we start lookin'? I mean... Do we even have any idea where to look?" He tried to keep his voice from wavering, but he couldn't help it.  
Bobby shrugged, "Well, I got a contact that might be able to help. She's a strong Psychic, maybe she could get this thing rolling before the trail gets cold."  
Sam wanted to object, tell Dean to at least sit down and eat something or just... stand in a corner so Sam could make sure he wasn't going to vanish again. He was good though, set his jaw and straightened up a bit despite the situation. He gave Bobby a small nod, clearing his throat and moving to grab a jacket and the bug-off bag he kept by the door.  
Dean raised his hand suddenly, "Wait," He said, licking his lips and, somehow, they kept feeling like they were going to dry up or something, "Bobby... I'm tired... Can we just..." He looked at the two other men nervously, trying to figure out how to put the words without revealing too much. His mind was hurting so bad now, "Can we just pause? For tonight... I..."  
Bobby nodded and reached out to touch his shoulder, "Sure, sure. You should get some rest, kid."  
Sam let out a sigh of relief, dropping his bag where he was standing, "If you need, Bobby, I have room for you to stay here too," he offered.  
Bobby watched the two of them and smirked, "No, I can go get a Motel, do some diggin'. Give you two some space," He said, backing up to the door, "I'll be back in the morning and we can pick up there."  
Sam gave Bobby a bit of a nod, "Alright, see you in the morning," he said quietly, smiling weakly towards him before he turned his attention to Dean, looking him over until he shifted a bit, "You uh...you hungry or anything?" It was a stupid question, but he didn't know if he wanted to make sure Dean showered, slept, or ate first.  
Dean felt instantly comforted that neither of the men even bothered to ask why, or pry too much. He tried not to show just how much he was satisfied with their responses, but he turned to Sam, "Yeah, yeah I could uh... I could use some real food."  
"Alright, well...if you want you can go shower or something and I'll find something for you to eat if you want. Or....is there something in particular that sounds good?" He hadn't seen Dean this tired in a while, and it was kind of nerve-racking.  
“Uh..." The older Winchester's eyes widened and he flushed at the multitude of options spilling from his brother's mouth, "I... Uh," He swallowed and blinked, trying to keep the emotions back as he started from the top, "A uh... A shower... Would be nice?" He said, sounding dumb even to himself. But hey... It'd been nearly forty years since he'd even had polite conversation with another person.

Sam swallowed, realizing he needed to take it a little slower before he made Dean's head explode, "Alright," he carefully moved his hand, setting it on Dean's unmarked shoulder before he turned him around a little and pointed down the hall, "First door to the right. I'll go grab you some clean clothes and what not." He wasn't exactly enjoying seeing Dean in this state, but it was better than no Dean at all.  
Dean startled at the touch, but tried to mask it as best he could and walked off, simply nodding to Sam and wandering down the hall. His eyes followed over the ground and walls as he walked, taking to the afore mentioned bathroom and stepping inside. He left the door open, starting the shower and peeling off his dirty clothes... His... ‘I climbed out of my own grave’ clothes. He blinked again, wildly, swallowing and stepping under the spray of water. Even that startled him and he nearly lost his footing, back hitting the tile of the wall and nearly causing him to bite his tongue in half.  
Sam winced when he heard a bit of Dean's movements, knowing that if he ran over and made a big deal out of it that'd only make things that much worse for Dean. He scouted out some clothes of his own-sweat pants and a t-shirt, and knocked on the open door. He was sure to make noise as he walked up, knowing Dean well enough after all their years together to be able to read his paranoid state, "Hey, clothes," he called, lingering for a moment, "Find everything alright?"  
Dean hissed and stood back up, wiping the blood from his lip and looking to the door, "Yeah... Uh... I mean..." He peered around himself and shrugged, "What's not to find?"  
Sam smirked a bit, shaking his head, "Just thought I'd make sure and all." He glanced at the shower curtain, holding back from asking anything quite yet. "I'm gonna go grab food, so if you get out before I'm back just...do whatever."  
"Sam!" Dean said, turning again as his heart hammered and he nearly lost his footing in the shower a second time.  
Sam whirled back around, not liking the tone of Dean's voice, "What-" he crossed the room before he could ask, tugging the shower curtain to the side slightly and reaching in to grab Dean's arm.  
Dean actually did startle this time, unable to stop himself, his feet slipped forward and he fell, dragging the Sasquatch down with him under the spray of the water. His brother's chest in his lap, water soaking his shirt. Dean, however, had hit his head on the tile as he came down and let out one of the most unmanly sounds he'd ever heard.  
Sam kind of jumped himself, had really been trying to help Dean stay up and not to scare him. Then he was wet and all over Dean, which was awkward and wonderful all in one sensation, but he was pretty sure the noise Dean had made meant something bad. He pushed himself up a bit, reaching to lift Dean's head and making a face at the already forming lump on his head, "Christ, Dean. I'm sorry.."  
"I..." Dean winced and narrowed his brows, "I was just going to thank you... Now I don't think I am," He said, stopping and staring at Sam with wide eyes as he suddenly became aware of how very, very naked he was. He swallowed, "Can you get off me?"  
Sam bit his lip a little, moving off of Dean and forcing his eyes towards the ceiling. "Sorry, I thought...sounded like something was wrong," he mumbled, clearing his throat, "There's ice packs in the freezer when you get out, gonna just...go and grab food real quick."  
The older Winchester stood wearily, trying to hide himself even though Sam was giving him space. His feet nervously touched the floor of the tub and he was so fucking terrified of stretching up to stand again, in case he fell, that he decided not to. He sat at once, dropping his back and shoulders and letting the cool water hit them, "It's fine," He said, wincing.  
Sam watched from the corner of his eye, frowning a bit and slowly letting the curtain drop again. Great, five minutes in to their reunion and Sam had managed to nearly break Dean, that was a great start. With a small, inward sigh, Sam exited the bathroom and grabbed the keys to the Impala, which he hadn't exactly minded inheriting, and exited the building.  
The second Dean heard the door close, he started washing himself. He kept any tears back from his cheeks, fighting them back under the surface and refusing to let them out. He knew the moment he did... He wouldn't be able to stop. Maybe ever. He swallowed them down for about the millionth time and sighed heavily, rolling the sting in his shoulders away and closing his eyes as he put the shampoo in his hair.  
Sam was back about fifteen minutes later, about three bags of fast food in hand because he hadn't known what Dean would really like. The poor girl taking his order looked extremely confused when he just kept listing things off, too, but he was a little desperate and he wasn't even sure Dean was all that hungry. For once, that became a variable and it kind of shocked Sam. He made his way inside, setting the food in the middle of the table and glancing around.  
Dean, dressed in Sam's large, loose clothes, and sitting on the couch with his hair still soaking wet, his knees up to his chest and his arms around his legs, looked up and watched his brother enter the room. He struggled to hide back the look of relief and just... smiled... Awkwardly.  
Sam glanced over, giving Dean a slow, small smile back as he made his way to the freezer. He grabbed out an ice pack, wrapping it in a thin towel before he handed it over to Dean, "Humor me," he mumbled, pretty unsettled by how Dean was sitting.  
Dean took the pack and rested his back against the couch, on top of it, "Thanks," He said, squeezing his knees tighter and staring at the roof. He blinked, feeling the tears again and he swallowed, "For everythin', Sammy..." Goddamn if this wasn't harder than he thought it would be.  
Sam watched Dean, frowning a little bit and sitting down beside Dean on the couch, "No problem..." he murmured, studying his brothers face for a few moments. He reached a hand up, stopped when he remembered what kind of damage that had done last time, and just made his body language a bit more open. "You uh...thank you, too, Dean."  
Dean raised a brow in confusion, keeping his eyes on the roof, "For what?" He asked, running his mind over anything Sam would even have the slightest reason to thank him for. It had been forty years... Maybe things were too fuzzy.  
"For everything, too, yanno..." Sam stated quietly, dragging his eyes over Dean, "For the whole...you know, when we were kids and all, and saving my ass a couple hundred times," he cleared his throat, glancing back around the apartment quickly, "You hungry?"  
Dean's body shuddered at Sam's words and it just happened. He couldn't even stop it. Holding back everything, trying to staunch the flood gates... He could barely breathe without wanting to break into pieces. But hearing the sincerity and love in his brother's voice... It just... happened. One second he was staring at the roof and then his eyes prickled. He let out a sharp, sudden sob, and he was dropping his head forward into his knees as he cried. They were horrible, choking sobs that caused his chest to burn and ache, but he couldn't stop them.  
Sam kind of sat wide eyes for a few seconds, looking pretty lost and confused. This wasn't...Dean, or anything close to something Dean would do. He knew it was his brother and all, but this was something completely new. "Dean..." he murmured softly, scooting across the couch to press a hand onto the middle of his back, "Hey, it's...you're all good now, alright?"  
Dean sobbed harder. He knew the second he started crying that he wouldn't be able to hold it back anymore. And his voice actually started to come through him, shaking his entire body. He hated it. He sounded ridiculous. And he couldn't just hide it from Sam... Or say that he was imagining anything anymore...  
Sam grew a little desperate, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped it around Dean carefully. He tugged his brother over a bit, letting Dean lean against him as he tried his best to calm the older one down a bit without saying anything stupid.  
He breathed in, trying to catch the air as it escaped him, as the tears fell down his face, as his heart hurt so bad it felt like it was going to burst. He had to do something. He couldn't just sit here and cry like an idiot in front of his brother. Sam... Sam couldn't see him like this. He shoved the younger Winchester away and got up, rushing to the bathroom before Sam could stop him.  
Sam frowned, watching Dean go for a moment before he too was up, running after Dean, "Dammit, Dean, it's alright!" He called, trying to shove his arm against the door before Dean could get a chance to close it all the way.  
The older Winchester didn't have nearly enough strength or attention to stop Sam from pushing his way in. He was already out of his own control and he just collapsed, falling on the linoleum floor and putting his hand over his mouth. He couldn't hold it back. He couldn't breathe. His face was turning red, tears were streaming on his cheeks and his head ached so bad.  
Sam dropped down beside Dean, tugging him up to try and get air moving through him, "Sh, Dean, it's alright, I promise you. It's fine, you can be upset-that's okay. You gotta breath, though," he pushed Dean's hand away from his mouth, using his thumb to pull Dean's jaw down a bit so it'd be open.  
Dean turned away, trying to get out of his arms, "Please..." He managed, gaping and reaching out for the wall, "One... One second," He said through the tremors in his body, "Let... Let me breathe."  
Sam let go of him, staying close just in case. He was pretty fucking terrified, if he was being honest, both because of Dean being so upset and because he didn't really know how to go about fixing it.  
"One second," Dean said again, struggling to control himself. His chest was heaving and hurting so bad it felt like his heart had bruised his sternum, but he managed to stem the tide. "Sorry..." He said, shaking still, "Sorry... Sammy."  
Sam shook his head a bit, still hovering a little, "It's fine, Dean. I mean it," He got up quietly, grabbing a paper cup and filing it with water, handing it over to Dean slowly.  
Dean pushed it away with a shivering hand and he let out a heavy-leaded sigh, "I just... I don't know... What to say..." He said, swallowing and breathing unevenly, "I... I don't know... Sammy."  
"You don't have to say anything," Sam said quietly, kind of re-gathering himself as he set the glass down on the counter, "Just...get away from the toilet, would you? I mean...I didn't exactly rent this place with hygiene in mind and I don't even really use that thing unless I'm drunk, you'll catch something if you sit there too long, Dean..."  
Dean was so emotionally invested at the moment, and vulnerable, that the laughter rocked through him at once, and he started laughing so hard it hurt, lips stretching over his teeth as he turned back to Sam.  
Sam stared, not really sure about the situation before he kind of ran back over his own statement and cracked a small grin and sat back, pressing a hand to his own forehead with his elbow to a bent knee as he laughed a little too.  
Dean breathed, sighing heavy as the laughter died down and he looked at Sam with wet, puffy, pink eyes for a moment before his bottom lip quivered, "I don't... Really wanna talk about it... But... I don't think I can ignore it... Either."  
Sam stood up, holding a hand out to Dean to help him up. Nothing too demeaning or over powering, he doesn't want to send Dean back into something when he's finally calm. "Alright, just...when there's stuff, share it or...hell, write it down or something and we'll deal with it as it comes, alright?"  
The older Winchester nodded and took the hand, "I'm... I'm not a fuckin' porcelain doll, Sammy," He responded, walking passed his brother and out of the bathroom.  
Sam sighed at that, having actually tried to be pretty careful with everything. He couldn't get too mad though, Dean had a good enough excuse to be bouncing back and forth between emotions. Sam followed shortly after, running a hand through his hair.  
Dean collapsed back onto the couch, he was tempted to force his legs to stay down this time, but they came up to his chest without his permission and he just decided to let them stay there. Oh well. Sam had obviously just seen a lot worse.  
Sam walked past, catching Dean out of the corner of his eye and cringing a bit. He was about to funnel food into his brother if he had too-poor guy could probably use it, really. He brought the bags over, setting them on the small end table beside Dean.  
Dean watched him close, trying to breathe and keep himself in check, "So uh... What all did you get?" He asked, trying to keep his voice sounding normal, but it was very worn, and his throat ached, torn from crying. His head boomed loudly in protest but he tried his best to pretend they didn't bother him.  
"Like half the menu," Sam smirked a bit, sitting on the other side of the couch again to just be safe. From this place he could evaluate Dean, try to guess his thoughts if he really needed to.  
"Well," Dean pursed his lips, "That... Doesn't explain much," He moved, reaching out to the bags and peering into them. He was half-tempted to just go for the pie the second he saw it. But he knew he should probably start with something normal. But it pinched something inside of him... Just seeing it.  
Sam leaned forward a little, still smirking slightly, "Yeah well, you got eyes and all." Then Dean froze and Sam was sure his heart skipped a beat or two, "Dean?"  
Dean shook his head, reaching passed it and grabbing the grilled chicken and mashed potatoes. At once, his stomach growled in appreciation and he carefully set it in his lap, fingers shaking.  
Sam got up, not sure what to do and he didn't want to stare. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, bringing it back to the end table to just offer there. He watched after that, all too ready to help.  
Dean winced the second he saw the fork and he bit his lip, taking it and scooping up the mashed potatoes. He sighed, tearing the chicken apart with his hands and eating it that way, reaching out and grabbing the beer to sip at it gingerly.  
Sam sat back a bit once Dean was eating, rubbing his eyes with his palm and taking a few seconds to relax a bit more. He didn't say anything, just kept his eyes shut.  
The older Winchester nearly inhaled the rest of the food, moving onto a container of mac n' cheese, and then ham, followed by the green beans and pork chops. He didn't even slow, reaching back in the bag over and over again.  
Sam didn't say anything for a considerable duration of the meal, not about to stop Dean or interfere. This seemed normal; Dean inhaling a restaurant in one sitting.  
He sat back, grabbing the pie last of all finally and opening it widening eyes. He took the fork nervously, bringing the piece to his mouth and eating it, nearly rolling his eyes in pleasure as he grinned, key lime, cold as ice and sweet.  
Sam smiled a little at that, considerably more relaxed as he stretched a foot out along the coffee table in front of the couch. "Was everything alright?" He questioned, raising his brow slightly. Dean continued into the pie, grinning wider and wider, "You spend forty years in hell and complain about any kind of food..." He paused, closing his mouth and looking at Sam nervously.  
Sam kept his best blank face, just giving Dean a small smile. Steps, small steps, and if he just let Dean be the one to lead the conversation about the subject that would be enough.  
He licked his lips and finished the pie, setting the empty container with the rest, "Thanks..." Dean said nervously, wrapping his arms around his knees and taking a heavy breath.  
Sam nodded, deciding to let the mess just sit there for a few moments. He's trying to process some sort of something with Dean, and it's obvious there's...some sort of trauma issue, but he refuses to press it.  
"So," Dean breathed, sipping the beer still and looking down at his feet as flashes from Hell ran over his vision, "How have thins been up here?" He asks, desperate for anything to avoid his own thoughts and memories.  
Sam watched quietly, clearing his throat and turning his head to Dean, "It's uh...honestly, nothing too eventful, I mean..." he shrugged a bit, running a hand through his hair slowly, "It's like the whole 'calm before the storm' type thing."  
"Well that's comforting," Dean said, running his hand slowly over the burned print on his shoulder and swallowing nervously, "Whatever this thing is... Sam... It's serious," He said, narrowing his brows, "I don't know if dad would've even known what to do about it. It's... It's somethin' else. And it's not good."  
"I know, but...you're here for now, that's good enough. Let's just try to relax a little bit, alright? That's why we're going with Bobby tomorrow." He gave Dean a small smile again.  
"I can't stop thinkin' about it... I remember... One second with..." He swallowed and shook his head, ignoring the words. Sam didn't want to know, "And then... Wakin' up in my coffin."  
Sam gave a small nod, trying to puzzle over it himself, "Like I said Dean, we'll get it sorted out, alright? We'll just have to figure some stuff out here and there."  
Dean looked at him, lips closing tight as he stared at Sam. His eyes wondered over every feature in the silence, tracing the familiar moles, the worry area between his brows, the soft, sad smirk. He made a note of how much longer Sam's hair was. And he was half-tempted to reach out and touch him, just to make sure he wouldn't vanish. He just stared though, barely blinking, silent as a door.  
Sam glanced over slowly, turning his head a little bit at his brother, meeting his eyes. He didn't try to read into it, knowing very well that Dean was probably just still in shell shock. He still looked tired, even after a shower and food and everything.  
Dean blinked, looking down at Sam's hands, at the size of his shoulders, at the expanse of his chest, filling out his shirts more than normal. He hadn't been gone that long in this world, but Sam still had changed some. Even though, he was very much his brother. Dean's eyes moved over everything, taking it all in, and he just blinked, controlling his breathing... And waiting for Sam to explode, or scream at him, or tear him into pieces... Or do other horrible things he normally did in Dean's corner of Hell.  
Sam just sat still, not really sure what to do. After a moment more of letting Dean gawk and stare, he shifted the slightest and tried to make Dean aware that he was about to say something, "Hey," he murmured, "You tired? Wanna go ahead and get some sleep?"  
Dean shook his head at once, scratching the back of his hand with the other, "No." God, he knew what he'd dream about if he did. Who fuckin' knew.  
Sam sat back a bit, giving Dean a nod, "Alright," he agreed, fully prepared to pull an all-nighter if he had to. "Anything else you wanna do?"  
"No," Dean shook his head, scratching his hand harder and looking around the room, his heart rate started climbing and then he stood, "I'll... uh..."  
Sam felt his stomach pit out, as he moved to sit up a little straighter, "Dean..." he said quietly, "Just sit down and relax, alright?"  
Dean blinked, eyebrows narrowing and he looked around again, biting his lip, "I'll just go to sleep..."  
Sam held in his next sigh, standing up and nodding a little, "Alright, the bedroom is down right past the bathroom. I'm gonna go take a shower."  
"Okay," Dean breathed out nervously, standing at once and walking down the hall, pushing open the door to the bedroom and walking in. He paused at the door, staring around and then looking back down the hall at his brother.  
Sam was right outside the bathroom, making sure to listen to Dean's footsteps and all. When he heard them stop, he looked up and gave Dean another smile, nodding slightly.  
Dean swallowed and walked in the room, leaving the door open. His eyes went to the messy bed and he climbed in it without even hesitating. At once, he was overwhelmed with the smell of his brother, and he pulled the blankets around himself. He hadn't experienced this in so many years and he nearly groaned, grinning. If he could have this... For the rest of his life... He could probably get over Hell.  
Sam got into the shower, keeping an ear out for Dean the entire time, just in case. He was pretty concerned for the older of the two, being that he was acting so different. One he was done, Sam got out and change.  
Dean surrounded himself in the covers, but he didn't fall asleep. He didn't trust himself to. But he was fine laying just there, listening to Sam move around and his own eyes running over everything in the room, resting on Sam's night stand. He reached under the pillow and grinned when he felt the gun there. Things never changed for a Winchester.  
Sam made his way back into the living room, cleaning up the empty food cartons and letting out a soft sigh. For a moment, he considered sitting down, but decided against it when he thought about Dean, and instead went to check on him.  
Dean heard him come in at once, and it was obvious, and easy, to tell that he was still awake, albeit wrapped in the large comforter and peering up at the wall on the far side before looking directly at Sam, but still, very awake.  
Sam was only slightly surprised to find Dean awake, and he gave his brother a small smile before moving all the way into. "Hey, you sure you don't need anything?"  
The older Winchester swallowed as he looked at him, turning to the pillow and taking a deep breath, "I'm fine... Just... Don't go anywhere."  
Sam blinked a little in surprise, having to adjust to hearing Dean speak in such a...needy way. Sam gave his brother a nod, fixing the blankets a little bit and watching Dean carefully. "Wasn't plannin' on it," he spoke quietly, which was a lie. He had been fixing to go see Ruby really, but this whole night...that changed things. His first priority was to make sure Dean was alright, and he sure didn't seem it.  
Dean reached out suddenly, grabbing his brother's arm with both of his hands and he swallowed, blinking. He licked his lips and shifted back, "Can... Can you... Sammy?" He was terrified to ask it. It was weird, he knew. But he wanted Sam with him, more than anything. He was so afraid of being alone, so terrified of being left behind. He felt like his brother was just going to slip away, no matter how badly Dean needed him. Sam had always slipped away.  
Sam studied Dean, frowning to himself at just how damaged Dean seemed. It amazed him though, that somehow, he still seemed just as strong as ever...if not stronger. He shifted a bit, pulling the covers back and sliding into bed beside Dean. He wasn't about to make his brother ask straight out, and even if he'd wanted to...it didn't matter. He wanted to be next to Dean to make sure nothing could get to him.  
Dean shifted close, fists grabbing tightly into his brother's shirt as he latched on, terrified of releasing him, in case he realized just how unworthy his older brother was. Dean buried his face in Sam's neck, breathing that scent in, a smell he was so use to, a smell he swore he'd never forget again.  
Sam jumped at first, still not exactly used to Dean's clinging and closeness. He slowly wrapped an arm around Dean's waist, careful to move where Dean could see just in case. He settled his chin on top of Dean's head, eyes shutting the slightest.  
"S-Sammy," Dean managed, he felt cold, incomplete... Worthless. Memories of Hell flooded over him, overwhelming everything inside of him as he clutched tight to his brother. Memories of the things Azazel did, he did. "Just don't... Don't leave..." Dean might actually shatter into pieces if he did.  
Sam slid his other arm under Dean, desperate to get him close, to try and heal whatever it was Dean was feeling. His upper arm propped Dean's head up, so that it was nearly on his shoulder where Sam could be sure Dean wouldn't have to have anything less than everything Sam could manage, "Not gonna leave Dean, I promise. I'll be right here when you wake up."  
The older Winchester's hands moved, the first unhinging itself from Sam's shirt and wrapping up around his neck, fingers fisting into his hair as Dean pulled him down, rolling them back so Sam was more on him than anything, smothering himself in his brother as he breathed him deep.  
Sam didn't question, just moved with Dean's motions as he always had. That had been the great thing about them-in fights, in times of trouble, and now...Sam was able to move with Dean in an ebb-and-flow sort of way. He lifted himself a bit so that he could envelop Dean almost completely, shoulders rounding over his brother and face pressing into the side of his head, "It's okay, Dean."  
"Sammy," He breathed, smoothing his body against his brother's. Dean wasn't exactly sure what he wanted from Sam, he just wanted something... Everything. He pulled his other fist from his brother's shirt, wrapping it up around his neck as well. His elbows, on Sam's shoulders, shuddered as he struggled inside of himself, desperate for something, desperate for his brother. But he didn't know what to do to relax the feelings. He just felt them tightening up in his chest, tighter and tighter, feeling like they were going to snap his spine.  
Sam set his forehead against the top of Dean's head, able to just feel the tension in Dean's body. He wanted to take it away, put some into himself maybe just so that Dean could find some sort of peace. "It's alright, I promise," he said quietly, reaching to tug the blanket up over the both of them. He was mindful to support most of his own body weight, not wanting to crush Dean.  
Dean nearly whimpered as he struggled, grabbing Sam tighter, pulling him over on himself completely now. Maybe if he smothered himself with this man... Maybe he wouldn't have to feel anything else... If he just pulled all of Sam in him, he might not feel so numb. He didn't know how to convey how he felt, a good portion of him wasn't even sure how he was going to do it. But he needed Sam. More than air, he needed Sam.  
Sam moved so his arms slid under Dean's shoulder blades, holding Dean to him in all respects. His eyes shut against Dean's hair as he was moved again, just allowing Dean to get whatever he was going for. It would always be like that, Sam would always be ready and happy to give Dean whatever it was he required at any point in time, no matter what.  
The older Winchester moved his arms, shaking and nervous as he grabbed at his brother's pecks, moving around his torso. His legs parted at once, welcoming Sam between them and he reached up suddenly, snatching Sam's jaw in his curled fingers, almost fists, and pulled him down. Dean opened his mouth and kissed his brother, heart racing as it twisted in his chest.  
Sam didn't think much of the move, not at first. He wasn't about to get squeamish about Dean grabbing at him, that was for sure. Then, Dean had his fingers around his jaw, and a huge wave of flecking energy went through him. He pressed his mouth right back against Dean's, kissing him back hungrily as his mind went completely blank.  
Dean moaned in surprise of the acceptance and his stomach squirmed, nether regions lighting with fire as he gasped, eyes opening in shock, but he continued kissing. That cold chill inside of him began heating up quickly, filling him to the brim with hot, scalding magma and he arched, shifting his hips against Sam's.  
Sam moved his legs to frame Dean's hips better, knees pressing into either side as he met Dean's lift. He pulled back for just a moment, hastily fighting to get Dean's shirt off until he reminded himself of Dean's state. He stopped with Dean's shirt half-off his chest, leaning in to press their lips together again carefully.  
The older Winchester moaned again into the kiss, eyes blown wide, dilated with lust as he helped to force the shirt off, reaching up to shove Sam's up as well. His fingers were shaking so bad, arms too, and his mind was whirling wild as he swallowed, trying to calm himself.  
Sam turned his head and opened his mouth, curling his torso up to make a cavern over Dean. He took his brother's arms carefully, pulling them to his chest to be sure if they shook, it was against him, where he'd know. His hips pressed down against, a small rumble of pleasure thundering inside of his chest.  
"S-Sam," Dean moaned, writhing under him and nearly choking in surprise at the friction of their hips. He stared up at his brother, one hand moving to pull him back down and slam their lips together almost painfully.  
Sam groaned, fingers sliding over Dean's stomach to undo his jeans carefully. One hand moved to the back of Dean's head, palm pressing to the side of his cheek as they kissed. His tongue slid over Dean's lip, teeth grazing it soon after.  
Dean arched into his hand, opening his mouth and nearly biting his brother's teeth as he forced Sam down more. His entire body was responding at once, one hand clawing Sam's chest, closing like a vice on his right peck, the other grasping his hair, legs squeezing his waist.  
Sam let out an overwhelmed noise at that, adrenaline pumping to hard to stop him from grabbing at Dean's hips in order to bring them up. as he moved his pants off. He tilted his head a bit more, tongue rifling through Dean's mouth in desperation as his hands forced their hips together in more of a fit.  
Dean shuddered against him. He felt everything inside of him rising to the surface, bubbling over his skin as his brother took him over. God, he needed this. The hand on Sam's neck moved, clawing down his shoulder and arm.  
Sam managed to shove his own pants off in the heat of pressing against Dean, and once that was accomplished and only the thin line of their boxers was there to block them, Sam leaned into Dean more. His fingers explored the other's waist and chest, pressing into every bump and grazing every poor he could manage.  
Dean broke the kiss, panting, chest heaving for air as he buried his face in his brother's neck, kissing the salty, sweating skin. He felt like he couldn't get enough, not nearly enough. Like a man in the desert, starving and thirsty, stumbling upon a small lake, and Dean was drinking from him hungrily, tongue lapping his skin, teeth nipping as he shifted. He needed everything he could get from Sam.  
Sam let out a few broken sounds, shifting into animal-mode as he forced Dean closer, "H-hey," he grunted, tipping his head to better allow Dean what he needed, "W-welcome back." He had to grin a bit, fingers wrapping under Dean's legs and tugging them up a bit to give him better access and he rutted.  
"Need you, Sammy," Dean breathed, writhing against him, it was best to be honest, to let Sam in, "Need you bad, please," He gasped sharply as he shifted his hips.  
Sam groaned softly, nodding and swallowing air quickly, "Need you to, Dean," he said softly, kissing along his shoulder a few times before he managed to get Dean's boxers off. He wrapped a few fingers around Dean's length, not about to deny him anything. He'd done enough waiting.  
The older Winchester choked on his gasp, dull fingernails dragging over Sam's back as he bucked his hips and looked down, eyes wide, staring at the motion as if he'd never seen something like that before. He shuddered with need, "Sammy."Sam moved his hand quickly, wrist twisting on the down stroke as he leaned back up to kiss at Dean's face a couple of times. "Relax," he murmured softly, observing Dean's face and feeling a twinge of slight guilt. He seemed so trusting for once, and there were certain things Sam knew Dean wouldn't be okay with. He ignored it, though, wanting to give Dean his gratification first.  
He wanted to believe the words his brother said, but he couldn't help feeling that Sam was just going to leave him. He couldn't relax, literally. And he couldn't admit that to Sam. But he nodded, pretending like he was trying. It had been a long, long time since he'd felt pleasure like this... Over forty years. And it was overwhelming. It didn't help that it was Sam doing it.  
Sam lifted to push his own boxers down, leaning in to kiss at Dean a few more times before he reached over into the night stand and pulled out a tube. His pace slowed a bit, one hand squirting lube into the other as he looked his brother over carefully. He wasn't exactly sure how to make things better, and he was wondering in part if maybe certain things would be too much. He had no idea what Dean had gone through...anything was possible, really.  
Dean reached up, feeling cold again suddenly, hands scrabbling at his brother, eyebrows going up in the center, "Sammy," He said, body rolling over with confusion, the fire and heat of passion burning down over his pain and sorrow as he stared up at Sam.  
Sam leaned in once more, lips moving slowly over Dean's jaw until he was up at his brother's ear, "Tell me if anything gets to be too much, alright?" He said carefully, other hand moving to find Dean's hole. He brushed a finger over it, just rubbing slowly to see how he'd respond. His other hand began to work over Dean's cock a bit slower, wanting to draw out a response.  
The older Winchester's eyebrows twisted as he struggled to respond to both actions, arching back to the finger touching a part of him this body had never had explored, arching forward into the palm trying to milk his soul from his cock. He whimpered and moaned, mouth popping open in the surprise and pleasure of both.  
Sam was careful to watch Dean. Not just his face, but his body language too. He kept his hand working steadily, a knee bumping to fit in the small of Dean's back in order to draw his hips up. He slowly pressed a finger into the other, gaze cutting into every flinch and movement Dean made.  
He remembered times in hell where he'd reminded himself that intercourse with the back door didn't hurt, normally. That things in Hell would obviously make it feel bad. But he couldn't help flinching and preparing for the pain. He was relieved though, at once, and his body began relaxing against his brother's touch. Even though the fire swirled around inside of him, the second he felt something else was the second that his body began to ease. Warm and needy now, he opened his eyes and stared at his brother.  
Sam froze as Dean flinched, waiting until he relaxed before he pushed in more. Once he had eye contact with Dean, he swivelled the digit inside the other and leaned in to press a few kisses to Dean's stomach. "You're alright Dean, I gotcha. Not goin' anywhere."Dean groaned and pushed back against the fingers as his body rolled over again, a wave of lust and need hitting him so strong he felt the air pushed from his lungs. "Sam," He said, "Please." He felt like his world was collapsing, like if he didn't have his brother back over him, he would lose himself. He wasn't nearly as patient as he should be, and he knew it'd hurt if he rushed Sam. But he needed him.  
Sam shifted around a bit, a little awkwardly since he was trying to encompass Dean again. He pressed a second finger in before he leaned down so their chest were touch, head shifting to the bed of Dean's neck to suck and bite a couple of marks in. "Almost, Dean, just hang in there a little longer, okay? Promise, almost there."  
"No," Dean breathed sharp as he felt and electric sharp sting of want strike his groin and he reached down, grabbing Sam's shoulders to try and pull him back up, "Sam, please."  
Sam grunted a little, glancing up at Dean and biting his lip, "Dean, I'm not going anywhere, I promise you." He leaned down, taking the moment to kiss Dean carefully. "You gotta trust me."  
"I..." Dean's eyes searched his brother's as he struggled to control his fears and his need, he nodded, body shaking, "Please."  
Sam set his jaw, swallowing a little bit and giving Dean a nod. He didn't want to cause anything-he wanted to be the positive in Dean's experience, really. He lifted Dean's hips again, wrapping the other's legs around his waist and leaning down again.  
Dean squeezed him tight with his thighs, reaching down and taking his brother's hand from his cock. His eyes locked onto Sam's, trying to convey all of his want and need, how badly he couldn't breathe without Sam, how much he never wanted to lose him, how terrified he was that it was eventually going to happen, no matter what he did, and he laced their fingers together.  
Sam watched Dean's face, just taking every detail in as he did. He hated how vulnerable Dean was, and that someone had actually been able to break that much of Dean infuriated a part of Sam. He grabbed onto Dean's hand tightly, raising it to kiss Dean's knuckles as he pressed in slowly.  
Dean closed his eyes, feeling his chest ease, the need filling him more comfortably as he squeezed back, urging the muscles around his brother's fingers to relax.  
Sam watched him carefully, pressing a few kisses to Dean's jaw slowly, "I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you again, Dean. I promise you," he whispered softly, fingers spreading to fill the man beneath him more efficiently.  
The older Winchester arched and writhed, "Sammy, please," He said, "Please, I need you," He opened his eyes, shifting his body, rolling back on the fingers.  
Sam waited a few moments before he withdrew his fingers, tugging Dean up a bit and sliding his arms back underneath him. He shut his eyes, staying cheek to cheek as he slowly pressed his tip against Dean's entrance, "I'm right here, Dean."  
Dean arched into him, arms wrapping under his brother's, fingers splaying over Sam's back as he gasped, "Sammy," He breathed, turning to kiss his brother's right sideburns. He was so filled to the brim at this point, on the urge of tipping over, damn, he just needed Sam... Everywhere, he needed Sam.  
Sam pressed into Dean slowly, not wanting to rush anything at all. He kissed and licked at the small slot of skin behind the curve of Dean's jaw, humming a little with pleasure as his eyes shut tight.  
The older Winchester groaned in pleasure, body shivering at his brother's actions and he stared at the roof, "God, Sammy, I can't... I can't," He said, finally feeling like his brother was everywhere with him.  
Sam froze at that, eyes widening slightly as he pulled back a little, "I can stop, it's alright. We don't have to push anything," He said carefully, a hand moving to brush through Dean's hair.  
"Don't," Dean said, eyes widening, "Don't stop," He winced, "It's a good can't."  
Sam nodded slowly, watching his brother as if he were about to dive into his brain before he let himself slide in the rest of the way. His eyes fell shut slowly, head rest against Dean's for a couple of seconds, "You alright?"  
"Yeah, I... I'm fine," Dean tried to say, chest heaving, "Please, Sam... Don't stop... Please." He said, hands moving over his brother's back as he shifted, "Please Sam." He was getting irritated.  
"Not gonna, Dean," Sam said quietly, slowly feeding a thrust into Dean, "I'm not going to hurt you either, though. Understand?" He leaned in, pressing his lips to his brothers.  
Dean kissed him back eagerly, fingers grabbing at Sam's biceps as his legs hiked higher, the heels of his feet touching the sides of his brother's back, "Sammy," He breathed in a shudder.  
Sam started to build a rhythm, eyes falling shut as his lips moved over Dean's mouth. He let his hands work the back of his neck, chest rising and falling a bit quicker.  
"Sam," Dean said, feeling his brother in this complete, new way, feeling his entire body respond in a way he'd never imagined possible before. He felt the slight burn, but it was nothing at all compared to everything he'd been through in Hell. It was nothing at all. It felt amazing. His brother's stronger arms around him, smothering him, it was exactly what he'd needed.  
Sam lowered his head, starting to leave small marks all over his neck. He wanted Dean to know he was safe, know he was his and that no one else could ever mark or break him again. "God, Dean," he breathed, pace starting to pick up a bit.  
The older Winchester gasped in pleasure, back arching as he wrapped his arms around his brother's torso, fingers squeezing him tight as they dug in and he lifted his head, kissing along Sam's clavicle, biting slightly here and there.  
Sam slid a hand down to Dean's cock again, starting to work his hand over him in a matched rhythm to his thrusts. He groaned against Dean's shoulder, eyes shut tight and back arched in so their stomachs pressed against each other.  
"Sammy," Dean practically sobbed, nails dragging down his brother's back as he looked down between them, eyes wide, staring at his hand. He knew this was suppose to feel good but-He gasped when Sam hit something particular inside of him and he choked, eyes widening even more as the shock of white trilled through his body.  
Sam nuzzled at Dean's neck and shoulders, not able to get enough of him as he kept moving, "It's okay," he murmured, pulling Dean right to his chest. He bit his lip, the grip around Dean tightening as he tried to make everything as good as possible for his brother.  
Dean reached up with both arms, grabbing the larger man's face and kissing him hard, sharp gasps of breath coming through his nose as they moved together and his body began to tingle, he felt it in his palms and feet most of all, legs shaking more than usual. And he was half confused as to what exactly was happening.  
Sam kissed in return, grunting with a few thrust as he began to move a bit harder. He managed to shift the hand behind Dean up into the short hairs at the back of his neck, eyes opening for a moment before rolling back in pleasure.  
His entire body was shaking, it felt like he was going to fall apart at any moment. Dean swallowed and opened his eyes, looking up at his brother and touching his cheek as his body responded to every thrust, "I... I love you... Sammy," He said, both terrified and exhausted the moment the words came out. He couldn't help it. No one had ever given him something like this, made him feel all of these things at once, and it just felt right to say it to him finally.  
Sam panted, eyes again opening once he heard Dean. His stomach twisted a bit on the words, body nearly giving out, "You..." he stared for a few seconds, "I love you too, Dean," he whispered, kissing him hastily a few more times. He grit his teeth, hand moving faster yet over Dean, "Fuck...c-close.'  
Dean nodded, glancing down and he sighed in surprise, "Oh," He already had, and he hadn't even realized it until now. His body tingled with the thrusts as a silent reminder, thrumming over him in long chords of bliss as his brother moved inside of him.  
Sam furrowed his brows a bit at the look on Dean's face, following his gaze and smiling weakly. He leaned in, pressing his lips to Dean's as he gave a few more thrusts before he came. He pulled out slowly, leaning up to kiss Dean again before rolling to lay beside him.  
Dean turned, curling his body close to Sam's as he breathed heavy, eyes half lidded as he smoothed himself against his brother's side and laid his head on the larger man's chest. His hand ran over Sam's right peck as he breathed, "I... I didn't know it could be like that," He said before he could stop himself.  
Sam wrapped an arm around him, breathing deeply as his eyes shut and he just took Dean's form in. "Hm?" He glanced over after a few seconds, furrowing his brows a little, "Don't take this wrong Dean but...you haven't exactly had sex with anyone you've really uh...cared too much about."  
"Not here," Dean spoke softly, feeling his stomach flutter nervously.  
Sam blinked in confusion, turning his head a bit, "What do you mean?"  
"In Hell," Dean explained, a burst of emotions running over his face, lips quirking in an odd smile, eyebrows notching in confusion or pain, and worry, as well as fear and trepidation, "The things they do... In front of everyone... The things they do to you..."  
Sam grew quiet, just resting his hand on Dean's side to let him know he was there. He watched Dean intently, stomach turning but refusing to say anything or to stop Dean.  
"An' they would... Change into you... Sometimes," The older Winchester swallowed, blinking and looking down at his brother's chest, "Tear me to pieces sometimes... Make me there's... Make me..." He breathed and blinked, "Make me..." He closed his eyes tight, "Make me beg them... To rape me. Because sometimes that wasn't the worst they could do."  
Sam swallowed a bit, leaning forward to press a kiss to Dean's forehead and tipping his chin up slowly. "You know I would never do that, right? And I'm not going to let anyone else," He stared him down, searching his face for a few moments.  
"I didn't ever think it was you," Dean said, narrowing his brows, "I wouldn't fall for that. But I... It was your body... They knew that was what bothered me most. That they were usin' your body to do that." His lips shook and he breathed carefully, "They could fuck me a million times... And they did but... I just didn't want 'em usin' you like that."  
Sam pulled him close, going quiet for a few moments, "I'm sorry, Dean. I'm sorry they did that, and I'm sorry for everything else they did," he said quietly, nuzzling against Dean's forehead, "You're safe now though."  
Dean smiled and buried his face into his brother's neck, breathing in his scent and sighing, "I know... They could never smell like you, neither..."  
Sam held him close, kissing along the top of his head, "You should get some sleep."  
Dean shook his head, "No." He really didn't want to sleep. The second he did... He knew those dreams were going to come in heavy.  
Sam sighed, running his fingers through Dean's hair, "You gotta sleep sometime. And when you do...when stuff happens...we take it as it comes, okay?"  
Those dreams weren't going to be merciful. Dean clutched onto Sam, "You won't be havin' 'em, you can say that all you want... But you'll just hear me screamin'."  
Sam went quiet, watching Dean, "I know I won't, but I'm gonna be here to help you. It's going to have to happen sometime, Dean. You can't stay awake forever."  
Dean nodded, "I know... But I'm enjoyin' the peace for now..."  
Sam nodded a little, sighing softly and holding Dean tight, "Alright."He was silent then, curling up to Sam, Dean didn't even realize his eyes had closed until he was out completely, like a light.  
Sam held him tight there, sighing when he felt Dean's weight against him. He settled down himself, keeping his arms wound around Dean.


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure if I’d consider this complete. But I don’t know if anythin’ more is comin’ fer it. It’s not a solid sendoff, but it’s somethin’ like Serenity fer Firefly. Lol.

His body was awake before _he_ was, shaking and shifting, throwing his arms out to protect himself and Dean ended up clocking his brother in the jaw as he flailed. He opened his eyes, shouting and sitting up, blankets pooling at his lap as he turned, sweat slicking his skin, looking at Sam who'd fallen off the side of the bed.  
Sam grunted a bit, rubbing at his jaw and pursing his lips to ignore the sting as he fought to make his way back onto the mattress. Even asleep, Dean had a pretty impressive swing, though he wasn't too concerned with it at that point. Climbing his way back up, Sam grabbed at Dean's wrist just to be sure of both their safety, taking in Dean's state with a soft sigh, "You're alright, Dean."  
Dean's eyes widened as he looked up at his brother, his entire body was shivering and he reached out with his other hand to touch Sam's jaw, "I... I'm sorry... I didn't mean to hit you."  
Sam let go of his wrist at that, sliding an arm around Dean's back and giving him a small smile, "It's alright, Dean. Would've taken getting punched over not seeing you at all the last couple months."  
The older Winchester reached out with both of his arms, pulling Sam down over him as he smirked nervously, "Still... Sorry." He narrowed his brows and brushed the red blotch of skin carefully with the tips of his fingers before leaning up to touch his lips to it.  
Sam shifted, adjusting to accommodate Dean's needs as best as he could. "It's alright, Dean. I mean it, it's okay," he kept still, just enjoying the feeling for a few moments and sliding a few fingers down Dean's side slowly.  
Dean arched up into him, closing his eyes and sighing in relief, "Please," He breathed, clearly already hard as a rock and he clutched onto his brother.  
"Jesus Christ, Dean," Sam murmured, glancing down between them and smirking weakly, "You seriously went from Point A to Point B in three seconds." Shifting a little, not about to tease Dean at all after the whole ordeal, Sam moved a hand between them and took Dean in his grip. Them being naked only helped this, of course.  
Dean choked and gasped, dropping his head back on the pillow and bucking his hips upward, "Sammy, please," He said, knees bending as he pulled his brother closer.  
Sam leaned in, kissing Dean for a moment before he started working his hand over the other, fingers pressing into the veins, "I know, Dean. It's alright."  
The older Winchester leaned into the kiss, moaning and nipping at Sam's bottom lip as he writhed under the larger man, "Need you, everywhere... Sam."  
Sam pressed a hand to Dean's cheek gently, rubbing a thumb across the skin and pressing a few more kisses over the other's mouth. He pulled his hand away, lifting one of Dean's legs to rest over his own and pressing their hips together in order to rut against each other.  
Dean gasped and whined, "Sammy," He said loudly, eyes wet with tears, "Please," He ground back, his entire body was shaking with need. He felt like he was on fire, like he was shattering into pieces, he just needed **everything** his brother had. "Please I... I can't _breathe_."  
Sam pulled back a bit, staring down at Dean and clearing his throat a bit, "Dean, I just...you're probably still sore, you know that, right? I don't wanna hurt you." Granted he was all for whatever Dean wanted, he was about to tear the other open just to comfort him.  
"I'm fine, please," Dean tried to reassure him, "Please, Sam. _Please_." His heart was racing, he needed this. More than air, he needed this.  
Sam sighed, reaching down to the floor to find the tube they had dropped earlier. He squirted some into his hand, easily coating himself since he figured Dean probably wouldn't be needing the prep himself. Tossing the tube away again, Sam slid back against Dean, tugging the other's legs up and around himself, "We're going to find a better comfort for you after this though."  
Dean grabbed onto Sam's shoulders, pulling him down with fists balled as his breathing began to hitch, "Please... Sammy," He said again, eyes wide in fear, tears dripping down over his temples, disappearing into his hairline.  
Sam stared for a moment, completely thrown off, "Dean, you gotta calm down, alright? I...I'm gonna, okay? Just...you're safe, alright. Stop begging, it's just me." He lifted Dean's hips, slowly pressing into him with slightly wide eyes.  
The older Winchester dropped back, hands letting go of Sam as he sobbed, his left leg bending inward, the knee pressing against his brother's stomach as if trying to stop him.  
Sam pretty much decided from that point that this was already _too_ much for Dean. He pulled out, shifting to fix himself over his brother as he scooped the other up quickly. "Come on, we're not doing this."  
"No!" Dean nearly shrieked, the sound of his voice unusual and daunting as his hands grabbed at Sam, "Please," He said, touching the heated skin of his brother's back, "Please don't stop, I need this... Sammy."  
"No, you don't. You don't need to relive hell every time you get upset, Dean. You're fixing problems how you always have, with sex and whatever else it is you're addicted to. We're not going to make this a habit," Sam wasn't yelling, but his voice was firm and his eyes focused forward as he carried Dean into the bathroom. Cranking the shower up, he let his eyes drop back to Dean and pursed his lips as he waited for the water to get warm before he pulled them both in.  
Dean was in a state, he was furious, terrified, disappointed, and also... _Rejected_. He shoved at Sam, turning to try and get away, but to no avail. He couldn't bare to be around him anymore. Sam was a liar. He'd literally **just** lied to him. Dean slapped his palms against his brother's chest, feet slipping on the tub as he fell back.  
Sam knew Dean didn't deal well with...well, anything really. So when his brother was pushing and wiggling around, Sam was anything but surprised. Then, his brother had fallen, and Sam stumbled a little, being that he had been holding onto him, but nonetheless he reached to grab the other up again, "Dean, come on. I'm not going to hurt you, alright? I just want you to deal with this in a better way. If you really need to beat the living shit out of me, go right ahead, but I'm not going to just screw you so you can live through everything over and over again!"  
The older Winchester shoved away again, moving to climb out of the bathtub by hands and knees, seeing as he barely had a handle on how to move in it. He was soaking wet with warm water, but he'd never been so cold in his entire life. He didn't want to talk to Sam, or explain things, he didn't want to have to deal with this.  
Sam climbed out right after him, shoving the shower off. Fine, if Dean wanted to try running away, let him try. Sam could easily overpower him in this state anyways. He picked Dean up again, a bit more roughly than previously, carrying him out to the couch and shoving the duo down onto it. He flattened out against Dean, forearm pressed to the other's chest, "You don't have to talk, you don't have to even like me, but I'm not going to fuck you while you're like this. Don't make me do that."  
Dean stared up at him, angry and stubborn, "You promised," He said, lips wet with blood and water, "You promised you would."  
"What?" Sam's brows furrowed, "Dean...I didn't promise. I'm sorry, but I didn't. I don't want sex to be like that for us. I'd rather go years without sex than to be the one to do that to you over and over again."  
"You promised you'd have sex, before, you did," Dean swallowed and looked away, "You lied."  
Sam shook his head, leaning down to kiss Dean's forehead, "No, Dean. **_I_ ** didn't. Something that looked like me did. And I'm sorry that's how you got treated. I'm sorry you essentially got raped, but I'm not about to keep doing that to you, alright? I love you, but no."  
"You don't," Dean said, glaring darkly at Sam, "Get off of me."  
"I do too," Sam said softly, watching him, "I love you more than I could love anything or anyone, okay? But you have to learn that's not how things work here. You have to learn to separate me from what you've known of me lately. That wasn't me, Dean. It wasn't."  
"Get off of me," Dean said again as his body stilled completely and he stared so coldly and bitterly at his brother, the wet glob of blood still on his bottom lip.  
"No," Sam said softly, reaching his thumb up to wipe it off him, "We're going to stay here until you calm down or start talking. Either way, I have time."  
Dean started shoving at his brother, pushing and flailing, eyes filling with tears as Sam wouldn't let up. "Get off," He said, "Get off of me, Sam!" He was starting to panic, heart racing as he shoved.  
Sam leaned down, pressing a few kisses to Dean's face, "Dean, breathe. I know you're tired and upset, but you gotta relax and think better than this. No one is going to hurt you, alright? It's just me."  
"You're already _hurting_ me, Sam," Dean said, turning and twisting to get away as tears fell down his cheeks, "Get _**off**_!" He shouted, knee shifting up and kicking Sam in the gut.  
Sam grunted a bit, not allowing himself to roll off quite yet. He doubled over a bit, doing his best to get a leg up to try and hold Dean's back, "I'm sorry, Dean," he breathed, trying to get air into his lungs.  
Dean shifted, wet body helping him to slip away and he kicked Sam square in the jaw. His chest was heaving, body shaking furiously as he backed into the furthest corner and sunk down.  
Sam let out a noise at that. Damn, that one had really hurt. For a moment, his body went rigid, hand gripping at his jaw as he panted in pain. "Dean," he pleaded, the bottom half of his body managing to slide to the floor, "You...ow, holy shit...you gotta stop. You're back home, Dean. You have to quit."  
Dean covered his ears, knees pressing to his chest as buried his face in them. He **couldn't** control himself. The one person he'd trusted had just forced him down against his will. And Sam was too strong for him. _Far... Far too strong_.  
Sam eventually recovered, still in a bit of pain as he crawled over towards Dean. He placed his hands lightly on his brother's, running his thumbs over them, "Please, Dean, I don't know how to help you. I'm trying, okay? You gotta...you gotta try though, too. I don't want to hurt you, I don't wanna screw up, okay? I'm sorry, you gotta at least try." He could feel tears starting on his own face, and he felt stupid, but he wasn't in any state to care, "Please, Dean."  
The older Winchester pulled his hands away from the larger man, "I don't want you touching me," He said, body shivering with painful tingles of rejection, "Just... Just go away, Sam."  
Sam opened his mouth to try and plead again, but that one kind of hurt. He knew Dean was upset and god knows what else, but seeing his brother in this sort of state was already killing him a bit, "Dean-"  
Dean looked at his brother, setting his jaw, "After what you just did... You actually think I want you anywhere near me?" The tears dripped down his cheeks, "You think I wantchu... Touchin' me?"  
Sam just stared, completely lost as he looked Dean over, "I...what...what did I... Dean you were...I don't understand..." he swallowed, looking over Dean's face for any clue as to what exactly he'd done wrong.  
"You held me down, I... I couldn't get you off," Dean blinked, shivering, "You... You can't just do that, Sam. You can't just hold me down like that."  
"Dean, you...you were gonna get hurt," Sam whimpered, eyes still wide and searching, "You nearly cracked your skull open in the tub, I didn't want you to do something _worse_."  
"But you can't hold me down, Sam!" Dean shouted suddenly, eyes wide, "I... I can't have you doin' that to me... I can't. I'm fine with sex an'... That's different. But... I can't have you puttin' your arm on my chest an' holdin' me down, I..." He swallowed, shoulders shaking.  
Sam flinched a bit when Dean yelled, just nodding quickly at him and backing away a bit, "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I thought...you wanted that, earlier, when we were sleeping and all, I thought it'd help. I'm sorry." He felt like absolute _shit_ , and he really, really just wanted to go throw himself off a cliff.  
Dean choked sickly and stood, rushing from the room, down the hall and into the bathroom as his stomach convulsed.  
Sam watched feebly, not knowing if he should follow or not at that point. He ran a hand through his hair, wiping tears off his face with the back of his hand quickly before he shoved himself up, just moving to stand in the door way of the bathroom.  
Dean coughed, heaving his stomach into the toilet bowl before pulling back, wiping his mouth and closing his eyes, He couldn't handle all of this. It was too much to take in at once. Too much to handle. He needed to breathe.  
Sam was silent, just watching and feeling essentially useless. After a moment, he sat down against one side of the doorway, deciding that if Dean wanted or needed, he could be there for him.  
The older Winchester stood and rinsed his hands off, "I'm... I'm gonna shower," He said, moving to close the door.  
Sam nodded slightly, moving back out of the way and just sitting there in the hall, trying to figure out what it was he was supposed to do.  
Dean sat down in the shower, washing himself thoroughly before he shut off the water and grabbed the towel he'd used before. He walked out, opening the door and freezing nervously when he saw Sam still standing there.  
Sam held up some clothes for Dean, not making eye contact as he did so. "I...sorry," he said quietly, still not raising his gaze, heart racing a bit.  
Dean reached out with shaking hands, taking the offered clothes and staring at him, nodding, "Yeah."  
Sam swallowed a bit, "I uh...I'll be on the couch, if you need anything." The side of his mouth twitched slightly, and with that he turned and made his way back down the hall towards the living room.  
"Sam, wait," Dean said before he could stop himself. He was terrified of what Sam had done, but this was probably his biggest flaw, forgiving him in a second, "Please..."  
Sam stopped, turning slightly and shaking his head, "I...I'm not...I'll see you in the morning, Dean. Get some sleep."  
"Please," Dean said, voice wavering, "Please, Sam. Don't... Don't go."  
Sam let out a breath, staying where he was, "I...I don't know what you want me to do. I'm not screwing up again. You've been back maybe five hours, and I've screwed up twice."  
Dean blinked and nodded, "I know but... Just don't go, please... Please just... _Hold me_..." The words came out, and he didn't want them to, because they were weak. But he didn't know what else to do to make Sam stay. "I know I'm broken, but... _Please_."  
Sam didn't move or talk for a few moments, just staring at Dean, "I'm not fucking you. I shouldn't have the first time, I'm not doing it again." The words came out a bit blankly, but Sam was already considering just leaving for a bit to let Dean sort himself out.  
Dean's body tremor-ed at the cold wording and he dropped his head, "Sam, I need this."  
"I'll hold you, Dean. But not _again_ ," Sam said quietly, turning slowly to face Dean. He was pretty drained, and trying very hard to shut down every emotion he had for the time being.  
Dean nodded and moved to go into the bedroom. His stomach twisted nervously as he walked. He didn't know what to do at this point. Everything he was trying to do to keep things in order was just making things worse for them both.  
Sam followed, staying back a good ways. There was still other issues to present, and what he'd thought he'd been doing good at keeping in order had turned out to just be a huge fuck-up. He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he walked into the bedroom.  
The older Winchester stripped off the towel and quickly changed into the clothes Sam had given him. He didn't look at his brother as he made his way to the bed, face red with embarrassment.  
Sam stood at the other side of the room to allow Dean his space, letting him define where they were moving to and such. His face stayed blank, and he watched Dean only from the corner of his eyes, tracking movement more than Dean's actual being.  
Dean climbed into the bed and motioned for Sam to lay beside him, "Please," He said.  
"Stop saying that," Sam mumbled quietly, moving to sit on the mattress, not reaching out to touch Dean in any way, shape, or form. If Dean wanted it, he'd have to go for it himself. Sam wasn't going to mess up.  
Dean blinked, hurt registering on his face and he started breathing harder, "I... I'm... I'm sorry, Sammy. I don't know what else to say, I just..." He turned away, body shivering as he turned his back to his brother, "I don't know what else to do, it's like I'm breakin' into pieces."  
"It's fine, Dean. I'm just trying not to fuck anything else up, alright? We don't need both of us in a bad state," Sam stated quietly, just watching Dean for the most part.  
Dean buried his face against the pillow as his tears spilled onto it and he shuddered, clutching at both of his shoulders.  
Sam sighed, reaching down to pull the blanket up around his brother's shoulders quietly. He pursed his lips, brows knitting in thought as he tried to figure out something to help.  
The older Winchester grabbed helplessly at the blanket around him as he started sobbing, body out of his control once again.  
Sam slid down slowly against the bed, facing Dean and just watching him, "Dean, it's alright.'  
He'd thought he'd been holding himself together well enough, but he hadn't. Dean let go of the wave of emotions as they poured out, vast quantities of choking sobs and gasps, breathing sharp and painful as he cried.  
Sam kind of crumbled, slowly moving a hand up to brush through Dean's hair, not really sure what else to do. He was afraid to put an arm around Dean, afraid anything constricting would have bad side effects. He still didn't understand how Dean had gone from wanting him to practically squishing the everliving hell out of him to being completely repulsed by it in moments, but Sam had been over-analyzing the entire thing as usual.  
Dean turned, unable to help himself as he grabbed his brother, hands grasping at Sam as he could barely control the sobs coming out of him, "Please... Sam... _Please_... I'm sorry... I can't... **I can't**..." He couldn't say or explain or do anything to convey anymore than that, just pulling at his brother as he choked and gasped, face red, freckles bright as the tears burned his cheeks.  
Sam let him move in close, setting his hand gently on Dean's back and just rubbing as he stared off at the wall, "It's okay, Dean. You don't have to. Whenever you can, you can."  
The older winchester's body shuddered as he breathed out harshly, hoarsely, "I don't think this is ever gonna be okay, Sammy. I... I just... I just wish I couldn't feel anythin'..."  
"It doesn't have to be," Sam answered, running his thumb along Dean's spine, "But it's really not going to be if you keep trying to fix everything in bad ways, either. You gotta stop."  
"I just need this now, Sam, please," Dean said, spluttering and reaching out for his brother, "You don't understand, and I can't really explain, but I... I need it to be like normal... Like... Like it was there... I need that... I _need_ it."  
"Dean, no you don't. I can't fix you, Dean. I can help, but I can't actually do it. You're going through a lot of trauma, I understand that. But you can't go looking for punishment or else this will never get better. You're going to have to learn to separate it," Sam said softly, kissing Dean's forehead, "I'm in no condition myself to be doing this to you."  
Dean blinked at the rejection, 'You... You don't understand... I... I need this... I _**need** _ it." He tried to convey, pulling back from his brother, "I know it's you. I know it's not them... But I need it. I know the difference..." He was like a broken record, he couldn't explain it any better, " _I need it_."  
Sam watched him quietly, just taking in his expressions. Okay, so telling Dean he was wrong wasn't going to help anything. He had to appease to him a bit, "Why, Dean? Why do you need it? What did it make you feel like?"  
Dean frowned, calming slightly and he blinked, "What... What do you mean?"  
Sam shifted a bit, "Why do you want to relive that, Dean? What about it made it so great the first time around that you need it here, too?"  
"Just..." Dean breathed, "I haven't been without it... It's... I've been doin' it for forty years, I... _I need it_."  
"So you're essentially addicted. But why?" Sam said softly, carefully looking over Dean's features and growing quiet.  
"I don't know," The older Winchester tried to explain, "I guess... After a while... They make you want it. They make you _crave it_. They tease you. It only makes you feel worse, but you... You can't help yourself. I want it... I want it so bad, I can't breathe. It's like I need to suffocate myself with you."  
Sam listened, holding Dean close to him after a few moments, "Dean, I'm not... It'd be pretty much meaningless sex, just you filling a need. And you're the last person I wanna do that with, okay? I know the reasons behind it, I get it, but you're going to have to be pretty much weaned off of it. So when you flip out on me when I say no...we need to establish this so it's at least going through the back of your head. _At least_."  
Dean shook his head, "I can't... I can't not... I need you..." He swallowed, panicking again. He turned, shifting, "I need somethin', I..." He choked back, reaching down and palming himself as he hissed, "You still don't understand..."  
"Dean, you're like a junkie right now. The need is based off an emotional attachment created by a traumatic situ-fine, you can do whatever you want to yourself, but stuff between you an I is going to be limited for now. Not that...it wasn't before but...you can't go through life like this, Dean. You gotta heal up."  
Dean sat up suddenly, "If... If I can't get it from you... I'm goin' to get it from somethin' else," He said, working his jaw.  
"Dean, you're having a withdrawal, you need to stop," Sam said quietly, just watching him. He felt a bit betrayed...used, even. He figured, however, it was stupid to have expected any emotional reciprocation from Dean. He smirked inwardly at himself, pursing his lips and nodding slowly as that one sort of settled in.  
The older Winchester shook his head, "I'm not goin' through withdrawal. I tried to explain it, obviously I didn't do a good job. I _am_ tryin' to get over what they did... Havin'... Havin' you in me... Seein' that face..." He looked at his brother, "Seein' the concern... It changes things, I just... If I'm gonna get over this, obstainin' an' rejectin' me isn't gonna help, Sam. I want you. I want it to be you. I want to actually _know_ it's you... But if you can't... I... I can't **not** do it."  
Sam was quiet, trying to register everything for a few moments in order to decide what was best for Dean. It sucked, the concept of being essentially **used**...but it was Dean. He gave his brother a smile, not really sure why, and nodded, "Kay."  
Dean's eyes widened in surprise, "You... You will?"  
Sam swallowed, setting his jaw and fighting back any sort of internal response, "Yeah." He answered shortly.  
"Please," Dean said, wincing at the word as he reached out, touching his brother's shoulders, "Please." He couldn't help it. It was something he was **so** use to saying at this point, it was reflex, but he brought in something he didn't ever say, to counteract it, "I love you, Sammy. Please."  
"Love you too, Dean," Sam said quietly, not looking at Dean as he did so. He let Dean do as he needed, just staying still and staring off at the wall to let him. That was exactly why he was allowing something like this too, because he ultimately loved Dean more than anything, and even if Dean was just working off his own need, Sam figured he deserved a little something for himself after being selfless his entire life.  
Dean moved close, grabbing Sam's arm and pulling him forward, "On me," He said, breath quickening, " _Please, Sammy_." He watched his brother with trepidation, terrified, waiting for the swift rejection again.  
Sam didn't say anything, focusing on everything but Dean really. He complied, moving over Dean and shifting to do his best to cover his brother as he had earlier. The back of his mind was analyzing everything; Dean had pointless and uncaring sex for years, so this was merely compensation because Dean knew Sam cared about him, and this was how something was supposed to be meaningful in some way. If Sam could get that out of the way, he could do this and not expect much else from Dean's end.  
Dean blinked, eyes widening as Sam climbed over him and he shifted, needy under his brother, "Sammy," He breathed, feeling suddenly annoyed at the clothes on him, "Need you, please. Sammy."  
Sam reached down, tugging Dean's clothes off slowly as if it was physically hurting him. He pressed his face into the pillow next to Dean's head, tears welling in his eyes as he fought to keep going. Swallowing carefully, Sam pushed his own boxers off and tossed them away from the bed, biting his lip when his shoulders racked.  
Dean trembled underneath Sam, lifting his legs as he panted, arms grabbing at his brother's chest to pull him close, "Lookit me," He said, swallowing nervously. It wasn't the same, something was _off_ , and he felt himself growing anxious because of it.  
Sam froze for a moment, rolling is eyes back to get rid of the moisture in them. He pulled away slightly, leaning in to kiss Dean quickly as he shifted them a bit. His hand reached for the lube, grabbing it and giving it a quick squeeze to get some into his palm.  
"Lookit me!" Dean said more sternly, grabbing his brother's hands to stop him, "I... I need to know it's you... Sammy," He tried to explain, "I need to know it's you inside of me, and not someone else. Sex doesn't matter... If it's not you."  
Sam pulled back quickly at that, bringing his eyes up to look at Dean's face. His lips, his nose, his hair-he complied. "It's not going to be anyone else," he murmured, pulling his hands away.  
Dean searched his eyes, "Good," He said, staring at him, "Because I... I don't ever want it to be anyone else. I just want to be for you."  
Sam set his jaw at that, swallowing and ridding himself of an emotional response quickly, "I know." He reached down, coating himself, wanting very much to get on with it.  
Dean narrowed his brows in confusion and sat up, "Wait a second. Wh... What's goin' on here?"  
Sam blinked, just staring at Dean, "...I think it's kind of obvious, Dean." He stated quietly, sitting there for a few moments, staring at the other with pleading eyes, "Relax, please."  
"I can't," The older Winchester said, "I need you with me on this, Sam. I need you. I need... Need to feel your love," He breathed searching his brother's eyes, "It feels... _Cold_. I don't... _I don't want that_."  
Sam gritted his teeth, fighting back tears, "I'm doing this for you, Dean. Alright? I don't know how much more love you want from me," he smiled, chest starting to rise and fall quicker, "I'm trying to give you what you want, okay? I'm doing my best here."  
"But I need you," Dean breathed nervously, reaching out to touch his brother's chest with the tips of his fingers, "You were so intense last night... What's changed?"  
Sam shut his eyes at that, lips parting as he fought a bit. He smiled again, muscles twitching to keep it up, "I'm just tired." He said softly, doing his best to keep his tone caring and loving.  
Dean shook his head, "No, that's not it. You're lying," He frowned, "It is... You don't want me?" He swallowed as he watched his brother, "You don't want me, because I'm broken. That's it. You wanted me so much last night. Now you see how really messed up I am, an' you don't wanna do this anymore."  
Sam shook his head, letting out a pitiful laugh, "No, Dean. I don't think you're broken, not at all." He slid back down onto the bed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, "I _do_ want you. That's the problem."  
Dean narrowed his brows, "What do you mean?"  
"Look," Sam spoke, staring up at Dean, "Let's just appreciate the situation here. We're both getting something we want, it doesn't nee to be anymore complicated than that, okay? Please?"  
"What are you gettin'?" The older Winchester asked suspiciously.  
"You," Sam smiled, holding his arms out and lifting his chin a little.  
Dean's eyes darkened slightly at that admission and he moved forward, pressing his lips to his brother's in a heated fit.  
Sam let him, reciprocating the movements and setting his arms around Dean simply. Crisis adverted, and they could move on at least.  
Dean clutched at Sam, pulling his brother over him again and arching his body with need, hands gripping at the back of Sam's neck.  
Sam grabbed Dean's hips, thankful they could just get everything over with at least. He wrapped Dean's legs around him again, already coated and all, and so he pressed himself forward against Dean's entrance.  
The older Winchester responded at once, gasping and moaning, grabbing Sam's arms and wrapping them around his neck and shoulders so that he was smothered in his brother's embrace.  
Sam swallowed a bit, pressing his face back into the pillow to get his own smell, not sure he could stomach Dean's for the moment, thrusting into his brother and giving him a soft squeeze.  
Dean's body shivered with need as he groaned, "Sam," He said, closing his eyes, "Please," He whined, writhing, "Please, need to." That burning, suffocating feeling was back and he needed it, so _**badly**_. But he also needed Sam. "Lookit me, please."  
Sam sighed, pursing his lips and putting his game face on, thinking of all the great things Dean was and even if this exact situation wasn't anything he'd imagined his brother doing, he could work through it. He smiled down at Dean, raising a hand to press along his face.  
"Sam," The older Winchester gasped and he groaned, staring into his brother's eyes, **his** brother's eyes, and his hands clutched at Sam's back.  
Sam moved his hand, taking Deans length in it and moving his hand over him in time with his own thrusts, just staring blankly and he tried to get Dean off quickly.  
Dean sobbed at the touch, grabbing at his brother, he _needed_ more, he started feeling that missing space again, "Sammy, please," He said, but it was making it hard to think straight.  
Sam wasn't even sure what Dean was asking for, but he pressed closer, thrusting a bit harder and moving his hand quicker over Dean, desperate to get him to an okay point.  
Dean's body stilled underneath him, hands dropping from his sides, breath and chest relaxing as he blinked up at the roof.  
Sam glanced down, coming to a stop as he leaned low to kiss Dean's forehead, "You okay? he asked quietly.  
"No," Dean answered at once, blinking at the kiss, "I'm not."  
Sam swallowed, staring at him, "What? Why-"  
The older Winchester moved, shoving Sam off of him and making distance from his brother as he shook his head, "Sam... I don't know what you're playin' at, I... I don't understand."  
Sam blinked, just staring at Dean quietly, "I did everything you said to." He defended quietly, searching over Dean's expression.  
Dean shook his head, "It's not the same. I know it. W... We can't do this."  
Sam sat quietly, eyes filling again as his gaze dropped and he nodded, "Yeah, no. I get it." He stood, giving Dean the best smile he could manage, "I'm gonna go get some sleep, you should do the same."  
"No, I mean..." Dean frowned and shook his head, "We can never do this... Again. _Ever_." He stood up as well, "I'm gonna get dressed, and I'm gonna go."  
Sam watched, frozen as he did, "W-what?" He stared, eyes searching, "What are you-Dean..."  
"I'm gonna go," Dean repeated, "And you're not gonna come after me. You understand?" He blinked, looking away, "I've already ruined what we had, just let me go."  
Sam's stomach pitted, a few tears rolling over his cheeks, "This isn't about us at all." He concluded, "You uh...I never really did fit yours or dad's standards, Dean. This wasn't ever about us, was it? Last night wasn't either. It was just...I was here, huh? Something to kind of emotionally shock you back in. And now I'm not...not what you wanted out of sex so...yeah, you're leaving. Dad showed you how to do that pretty well, huh?" He kept the small smile on his face, just looking his brother over. Dean hadn't ever left him before; John had, but **not** Dean. That...sucked. To say the least.  
"Just here? Just _emotional_? Just _**shock**_?!" Dean glared angrily and punched Sam in the jaw, "How dare you fuckin' say that to me? Goddammit, Sammy... How could you ever think that about me? I... I want **you**. I'm asking for **you**." He swallowed, choking, "I... I love you. How could you think I didn't want... Us?"  
Sam grappled, stumbling back a bit and pressing against the wall. He'd gotten hit three times in the same spot, and it was really starting to hurt. He let out a choked noise, more so at Dean's words. "Shut up," he managed, "It's like every other fucking time, you just fuck and leave." He rubbed at his jaw, staring at his hand when he realized he'd finally started to bleed, "You even fucking hit like him," he murmured, more so to himself as he stood up and headed for the bathroom.  
Dean pressed his lips together and he moved, following after in silence and grabbing his old clothes up from the bathroom floor; _his grave clothes_. And he began pulling them on.  
Sam wiped his eyes on his shoulder as he stood at the sink, turning the water on and dripping into the porcelain, ignoring Dean's presence as best he could for a few moments. After a bit though, the frustration got to him, and he let himself sit on the floor with his face pressed into the cabinets, wiping his eyes quickly again.  
"I don't just fuck you and leave," Dean said suddenly, "It was more to me than that. I've... I've felt like my whole life I've wanted you to want me back as much as I wanted you. I fuck an' leave others because I reserve that spot for you. Only you, Sam." He looked away, "I may have been with women, lots of them, but I saved the rest of me for you. I've never been with a man because... He wouldn't fit there right, if he wasn't you. Don't you understand that?"  
Sam glanced up, wiping blood off his face with his arm, "You didn't fuck me because you wanted me. It was because you were **addicted** , Dean. You were just going to keep doing it until you got enough, you didn't give two shits about what was going on with me. It was because you **needed** it. And then you realized, and it wasn't what you wanted out of me, and now you're leaving."  
"I **did** fuck you because I wanted you, don't you _see_ that?" The older Winchester growled, "God, Sam, I want _you_. I've wanted you since I was like... Fifteen. I wanted you when I saw you with Jess... When you fucked that Werewolf bitch, don't you fuckin' tell me I didn't fuck you because I wanted you, so help me, Sam, I will seriously fuck you up." Dean moved away, glaring at his brother, "I've always wanted you. Wanted you to lookit me. I don't care what those things did to me in Hell, but it hasn't change my feelin's. I just... Acted on them this time. Instead of ignorin' them. An' I don't care what it is between you an' me, if it's... If it's messed up to feel this way. It's what I feel."  
"Bullshit," Sam smirked, tears growing thicker though he wiped them away just as quickly, "That whole fucking time, you talked about needing it. You talked to me like I was one of them. You never fucking wanted me like that, you barely wanted me around. Because dad didn't want me around either, so you couldn't." He stood, narrowing his eyes, "I stayed home from my addiction to take care of you. I don't even care that you used me, Dean. I really don't. You fucking leaving-that's bullshit. Fuck you."  
Dean shook his head, ignoring his brother's words, "I can't say anythin'' to convince you otherwise, fine," He said, backing up, "We go our separate ways." His stomach sunk as he finished up putting on his shoes, "I knew kissin' you would be the biggest mistake of my life the moment I did it. I was terrified to do it. And now I've just... I've ruined everythin'. This is why incest is wrong, because it does **this**."  
Sam glared, watching Dean and furrowing his brows, "It's one thing to leave, Dean. It's another thing to sit there and try to make it look like you're doing it because you think you messed up. I know what you do when you think that, and it's not this." He wiped his mouth again, just staring, "But yeah, enjoy yourself if this is what you really want. Hope it's everything you think it will be."  
Dean ground his teeth together and punched Sam square in the nose, "I don't know... What the fuck your problem is, Sam. But you can believe whatever the hell you want to. I'm not goin' to sit around here and listen to this horse shit spill outta your mouth."  
Sam yelped a little, falling back and-with his luck-hitting the counter with the back of his head. He groaned softly, pressing his face into his arm and choking out a sob as the blood started, "You wouldn't fucking leave if you thought you messed up. This is you being too much of a coward to tell me the fucking truth."  
"I am tellin' you the truth! You fuckin' bitch!" Dean shouted, so furious he could barely see straight, "I'm **_in_ ** love with you! I'm in love with you. Fuck. I don't even mind bein' fuckin' step-ford fags an' adoptin' kids n' shit or somethin' cheesy an' borin' like that. I want **you** like that. To the depths of my soul, I want you like that. What else do you want me to say?"  
Sam flinched when Dean yelled, not looking up, lip just curling as more tears started. He laughed shortly, spitting out some of the blood that had seeped down the back of his throat, "Then why the fuck would you use me like that, Dean? You wouldn't have ever done that before, you wouldn't have done it because you _needed_ it and then threatened to go to someone else if I didn't!"  
Dean turned his head, "Because you hurt me," He swallowed, "This might come as a shocker, but I have some kind of feelin's. You rejected _me_ , so I lashed out. That's what I always do. As for doin' it in the first place... I just came back from Hell. From forty fuckin' years of it, and you're tryin' to ask me to justify needin' you? You're askin' me... To tell you... That after hungerin' for the real you for forty fuckin' years of torture... Why I latched onto you an' kissed you an' fucked you? Because I missed you. I needed you."  
"I didn't fucking reject you! I was trying to fucking help you! Just like I was when I agreed! I don't even care that you wanted me to do it," Sam spat, moving to prop himself up onto his back, "But I found a way to give you what you wanted and to not expect anything emotional back from you-because I knew you weren't going to give it to me, you never have-and then you fucking got up to leave. Just fucking like dad would when I didn't do something right. That's the kicker, Dean. You basically said I wasn't good enough right there, and we both know I don't just go off and do meaningless shit. I was perfectly willing to make it meaningless so you could have what you needed, and it still wasn't good enough. Maybe it wasn't meaningless to you, but you sure as hell set it up like it was supposed to be."  
"I..." Dean closed his mouth, searching for the right words before he admitted, "I don't want it to be sex. I don't want it to be fuckin'. But... I know it sounds cheesy an' stupid as hell... But I want it to be makin' love. Serious. I can't think of another way to say it. I want... I want to feel _you_. I know you... I practically raised you. An'... An' it means somethin' to me. Intimate. Physical, emotional, verbal, sensual... Whatever. I want it all. Or nothin' at all, Sam."  
"Then don't fucking tell me you need it after we get done talking about addiction, Dean! Don't make it sound like it's just...whatever, like you don't care if I want to or not, or that you'll get it from someone else when I obviously fucking have some emotional investment. That doesn't leave me with a whole fucking ton of choice. I'm trying to fucking help you, Dean. Stop being a prick about it. I'm sorry, but you know, it's a lot fucking harder to make something feel emotional when you're sitting there saying you need it, and when it's probably going to be really often. Shit looses its value when you do it too much, you know that." Sam closed his eyes, taking a few breaths before rolling onto his side and pressing his nose back into his sleeve.  
"I'm still gonna go," Dean said finally, looking away from the mess of his brother. His chest clenched even as he said the words, "You can keep the Impala with you. I'll uh... I'll just leave," He turned, walking down the hall to the front door.  
Sam let out a choked sob at that, waiting until he heard Dean walking away before he let himself cry freely, stifling noises as best as he could as he grabbed onto the counter and tugged himself to sit. "Asshole," he whimpered, letting his head hit the sink cabinet once before he pulled back, glancing to the wood for a moment before he did it again, as hard as he could, for good measure.  
Dean gritted his teeth, opening the door of the apartment and leaving it with the soft click. He didn't know if things would ever be right between them again, but he dropped his cellphone outside of the door as he walked away.  
Sam stayed there for a while, just staring at the wall quietly. He'd spent all that time looking for ways to get Dean back, and then Dean just...left. Like he didn't matter at all. Sliding back onto the floor, Sam shut his eyes and let himself fall asleep finally, not about to be worried with the mess around him.

Dean normally took pride in swallowing his emotions back, and it was times like this that he found it a difficult thing to do. But he succeeded nonetheless; John would be proud. Most of the distance from there he made on his feet, pausing occasionally to play pool or cards, make some money and put it in his back pocket. Try quitting sex with demons in Hell for forty years cold turkey, it's easy when your feet have blisters from walking. Not much sexy about that. He didn't even bother counting how many days or weeks he walked before settling into a town and getting a job at a car repair.

Sam went a bit recluse for a while, having the whole 'ripped a barely healed scab open' effect for a bit. After a while though, the apartment itself started to bother him. It was one thing for Dean to have been taken due to his deal, and a whole other for him to just... leave Sam. He slowly took hunts up again, not really sure what else to do with himself, seeing as there wasn't a whole lot of options for him. Most of them were stupid little hauntings and not much else, nothing he had to think about; just enough to distract him.

Dean settled down into a usual working schedule at the car repair, a small, mostly family own business in an old little town probably half a state over from where his brother's apartment was. He didn't bother getting a car, or buying anything serious, but the first things he got his hands on were a couple of nice guns and a ton of salt. He ignored stories spreading around town of mysterious happenings, but he wasn't going to leave himself completely open to _any_ enemy. God knew he had many of them. Most of his days were long, full of fixing cars from seven in the morning to nearly ten at night, and sometimes he even worked then, but he was quiet with the people, keeping to himself.

Sam followed shit around as needed, and eventually that led him across the state. He wasn't fond of being alone, not at all. He convinced himself that if Dean had stayed, he would've only left eventually again. The whole incident, in Sam's mind, was really just Dean shaking him off and doing his usual tricks. Sam imagined that Dean wouldn't have left if it hadn't been that, if Dean had actually really given a shit. Eventually, the Impala started acting up, and Sam wasn't about to go poking at it himself. It was probably just oil, but Sam took it into a shop and told them to do as needed. He still had plenty of credit cards.  
Dean was half under a '79 Camero, jumper pulled off the top of his body, white muscle shirt stained with sweat and grease, clinging to his chest as the other worker there, Jimmy, came back and offered the '67 Chevy Impala just brought in, to him. They knew Dean had a thing with the classic cars, and he rolled out, body stiffening as he saw the back of his baby parked in the garage.  
Sam was sat in the lobby of the shop, going through magazines as he waited. The guy at the counter had tried very hard to start a conversation with Sam about the car, but Sam was pretty clueless and frankly not in the mood for talk about Dean's stupid car.  
Dean moved to the hood of the Impala, chest heaving as he looked her over, drying his hands on a rag as he opened her hood and began checking her vitals. Maybe if he was fast enough, he'd be spared. Maybe... Maybe it wasn't his Impala... Maybe other people had the same license plate as Sam. _Yeah..._  
Sam sat in the lobby for a while before he got a little bored and stood, heading outside and wandering around the lot for a bit. It reminded him of Bobby's place, and he remembered that he hadn't actually talked to Bobby since the night Dean came back. Sam ran a hand through his hair and looked around the area, just taking everything in.  
Dean sighed in annoyance as he began tweaking around, tuning her parts up and he sat still for a moment, running his hands over her before he closed the hood and wiped the sweat from his brow. She was probably fine now, but he climbed under her just in case.  
After a bit, Sam was back in the lobby and just sitting with his eyes on the clock. Maybe he'd messed the car up more than he'd thought...he shrugged it off. After all, if nothing else, it wasn't exactly his and he couldn't be too concerned with it.  
The older Winchester climbed out from underneath, starting the car and concluding that she was in the top-est of shapes. He moved into the building, trying to get Jimmy's attention from a far but the guy was in the corner, typing in rates for the week, as usual. He made his way over, avoiding Sam's eyes, hoping he wouldn't notice him, "That Impala's done," He said softly.  
Sam glanced down when he spotted movement, blinking a few times to register that the man moving was, in fact, Dean. He froze for a moment, just watching, realizing Dean wasn't about to come talk to him. Swallowing a bit, Sam felt a twinge of pain at that and stood, making his way out the door. Dean could just shove the Impala up his ass.  
Dean turned from Jimmy, "One moment, sir," He said, moving to follow Sam, "Hey, wait!" He shouted, if the guy wasn't so **damn** tall.  
Sam ignored the voice at first, scuffing his way down the street, tugging at his sleeves quietly. He stopped though, not really on his own accord, not turning to face Dean.  
The older Winchester reached him, finally, blinking and narrowing his brows as he looked around the quiet street, it was a small town, but everyone knew him here now, knew him to be quiet and personal, "Wait, Sam." _It'd been... How many months? Five? Six? Maybe more?_ He'd lost count. Hell, he barely even **looked** like himself anymore.  
Sam didn't speak, he barely even moved to face Dean. He just stood, waiting for the other to say whatever it was that was so damn important. Part of him wanted to turn around and punch him, and he was really considering it.  
"I'm sorry," Dean said, licking his lips and watching his brother wearily.  
Sam turned, just enough to look back at Dean. He smirked slightly, raising his brows, "Yeah?"  
"Yeah," Dean admitted, backing up a bit, "For everythin'. Makin' you feel used. Keepin' thin's from you. Leavin' you. I'm sorry."  
Sam just stayed quiet, eyes dropping as he stared at the ground, "Would've happened no matter what. Don't."  
Dean narrowed his brows in confusion, "What do you mean?"  
"Nothing, Dean. It's not important," Sam said quietly, shaking his head a bit as he cleared his throat, "You uh...keep safe." He gave the other a small nod, stuffing his hands in his pockets before he began walking again.  
"W-W-Wait!" Dean shouted, moving forward again, "Sam, stop." He reached out to touch his brother's arm.  
Sam stilled, flinching at Dean's touch. He turned, just staring at Dean. He felt extremely tired all of a sudden, too tired to even try to ask 'what'.  
"Can we... Can we talk?" Dean blinked, looking his brother over, "I mean... I got another eight hours of shift left but... Maybe after? I mean, I'd like to talk."


End file.
